Mine is the Song
by HarryMotouPotter
Summary: Binns is acting strange. That can only be bad. Sent to a new world, Harry must figure out where his loyalties lie and what exactly it is he is fighting for. Maybe the game could use a little shake up... No Slash, 5th Year. M for violence (and possibly future sexual content)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys, it's been a while since I posted on here. I haven't been writing for a while and was struggling with where to start on my other fiction "Harry Potter and the Third Age" and so I decided to write something else to try and get back in the swing of things. Plus "A song of Ice and Fire" is just the greatest. Enjoy this first chapter, maybe it'll help me write the next chapter of the other one.

Disclaimer: I neither own Harry Potter nor Game of Thrones/A song of Ice and Fire, much as I wish I did. All character (that aren't OC) belong to J.K Rowling and George RR Martin respectively.

Chapter 1

Harry idly tapped his quill on the desk. It was a well-known fact that History of Magic was THE most boring class in the entire Hogwarts curriculum. Professor Binns had obviously decided long ago to stop trying to get children to listen to what he was trying to teach and just talked solidly throughout the lesson in the hopes that someone, one day, would pass his class.

Harry kind of liked it if he was honest. It gave him the perfect opportunity to catch up on the sleep he missed due to Ron's incessant snoring. It was so loud that even his silencing charms struggled to keep it out. Usually in this class he was out like a light, before Ron even got the chance to consider dozing off. Though his snoring lessened somewhat when he slept sitting up. Distractedly Harry wondered if he could use that to his advantage.

Now, Harry thinking at all in a Binns lesson was unheard of. Which was why this particular lesson seemed rather strange. In fact, it appeared that pretty much everyone in the class, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor alike, was awake. That was the first indication to Harry that something was wrong. The second seemed to answer the mystery of the first.

Binns had stopped talking.

Binns never stopped talking.

Why had Binns stopped talking.

"Uh, sir?" Hermione asked from her position next to him. Harry looked at her. Then shook his head slightly. Of course. Hermione always paid attention in History of Magic. How she did it he did not know. Maybe Binns voice was to her, what the Veela allure was to Harry. Maybe she was just immune to it.

She had been getting particularly irate this year at his and Ron's apparent lack of, well, anything when it came to History of Magic. Something about it being their OWL years or something, Harry didn't know or care. He usually just stared at her during these tirades, nodding at various intervals. He been doing that a lot lately. Ever since the Dementors he had been slightly vacant. At the trial he found himself studying Fudge's multiply chins whilst he was being accused of underage magic. He'd nearly applauded at Dumbledore's magnificent entrance, then proceeded to twiddle his thumbs whilst the Headmaster saved his bacon.

Now where was he.

Ah, yes.

Binns.

And his apparent lack of vocal chords.

The History of Magic teacher seemed to be having a silent conversation with himself. This was impressive in itself, Harry mused. Harry didn't know Binns had the capacity for anything other than Goblin rebellions.

"Sir?" Hermione tried again. The whole class was now staring at Binns in slight confusion. Not worry, Binns was dead after all, what could possibly be wrong with a ghost?

"…put this off far too long…" Harry heard Binns mumble. Ah. The mumbling stage. Harry knew it well. Hours spent laying in his bed staring at the ceiling saw Harry talking to himself quite often. It was oddly comforting knowing there was someone who understood him, even if the person was himself.

"Put what off for too long sir?" Hermione pressed again. Harry had the inexplicable urge to smack her on the top of her head. You don't interrupt people when they are talking to themselves. It was just rude.

Binns turned to face Hermione. Which also meant that Harry was in his line of sight. The look in the Professor's eye gave Harry pause. Was that excitement he saw in the grey eyes of their ghost teacher? No. Must have been a trick of the light. Binns didn't do excitement. It was the opposite of what he stood for. Harry became slightly worried.

"I never thought the day would come" the ghost muttered. "They said I would know when to do it, when it felt right. And they were correct of course, of course they were correct."

Harry was freaked out by this point. So was everyone else by the amount of wide-eyed looks being thrown in Binns' direction. Dread coiled in the pit of Harry's stomach. Binns was still staring at him. Or Hermione. But most likely him.

"I am sorry, Mr Potter" Binns said quietly. Harry's name didn't register for a second. When it did he began to stand up and back slowly away. Everyone was looking between him and the Professor now. Said Professor had turned away and was retrieving something from his desk draw. The draw must have been magically altered to make it bigger on the inside, because what Professor Binns drew out of the draw was something which both confused and astounded Harry Potter's already slightly messed up head.

It was a sword.

Not just any sword.

A big sword.

A big shiny sword.

A big shiny, oh so very sharp looking sword.

"Catch" Binns said simply and threw the sword, hilt first, towards Harry. Never mind that the ghost should not have been able to hold the sword let alone throw it. The weapon soared through the air and Harry, by instinct, caught it by the hilt.

A few things happened at once. First the sword started to glow. Gold. Then it started to become slightly warm. Then hot. Then scalding. Then it must have gone Supernova or something because Harry screamed in pain. His grip on the sword had not loosened, it almost seemed to be welding itself to his palm. He could hear the distant screams of other people, his classmates. His friends. But he couldn't stop staring at the golden sword in his hand.

The last thing he saw was Professor Binns' excited eyes. Then there was a blinding flash. And Harry Potter knew no more.

Harry groaned.

His head was pounding. His hand was stinging. His, well, everything was hurting. What had happened? He had been in…he had previously been in….

Ah. Yes.

Binns.

History of Magic.

Sword.

Pain.

It all came flooding back in a tornado of memories. Which of course lead to his head giving quite a nasty throb. Groaning, he back to take in the details of where he was. He was laying on something hard, it felt like stone. His hearing was somewhat muffled, Harry thought he could hear voices, but it was hard to distinguish. Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes. At first it was agony, bright light assaulted his eyes and he quickly shut them again. It the sound coming rushing back into his ears to make him open his eyes again.

He seemed to be lying in a main street. Wooden houses were on either side of him, this was odd in itself. There was little to see apart from this, the street was rather closed off but since the sun was beating down it must have been midday. The voices Harry had heard previously seemed to be shouts, but there was no one in sight. A main street completely devoid of people. Harry was silently thankful that his spontaneous arrival had happened in a place where no one could have seen him.

The next thing Harry realised about this place was that it absolutely stank. Excrement was lying in the alcoves along the side of the street. Slight trickles of smoke was coming from some chimneys, though it was obvious that none of the fires were still going. The smell of sweat was ripe in the air. All of this combined was almost too much for Harry to take.

Retching, he searched for his wand. Thankfully it was in the back pocket of his jeans. Casting a quick charm to somewhat improve his breathing quality, he decided that his best course of action for the moment was to move towards the source of the noise.

As he got closer to the commotion the shouts became distinguishable as words.

"Traitor!"

"Off with his head!"

"Make 'im bleed!"

Harry blinked. That didn't sound like the words of friendlies. But he had to know the context. Rounding a corner Harry saw a gleaming white building with seven very pointy-looking spires. That seemed to be the direction from which the shouting was coming from. Harry broke into a run, suddenly feeling quite urgent to find out what was happening.

It did not take him long to get to the white building, and when he did…

A great crowd was gathered at the bottom of the steps leading up to the building, obviously a church of some sort. The people were all scruffy and dirty and, to put it plainly, quite obviously enraged. They were all looking up towards the top of the steps, where Harry saw a quite disturbing site. A bearded, bedraggled man stood tall and proud before the torrent of abuse, his head held high, hands tied behind his back, and eyes searching. A large, slightly intimidating man with an axe stood beside what was quite obviously the prisoner, a mask covering most of the man's face. To the right of these two was a congregation of people, all dressed in fine silks and robes.

"Royalty" Harry muttered under his breath, there was no doubt about it. You couldn't get more royal than this lot. Harry surmised the King was the one wearing the golden crown. This 'King', had to be younger than Harry, by a few years at least. The wizard frowned. What sort of World was he in that boys of 13 or 14 were given what was obviously a fair bit of power? Even if they were of royal blood there should be someone making all the decisions until said King or Queen came of age. Even Harry, who had never had much to do with the British Royal family, knew this much. And yet it seemed that the boy was the one calling the shots, and enjoying it too. Harry saw the prisoner open his mouth to speak.

"I am Eddard-" but he was cut off when tremendous boos rose from the audience. Harry was starting to become uneasy around them, there could be violence here, and Harry didn't want to reveal magic to this seemingly medieval time just yet.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King" the Prisoner said and Harry stared. Lord? What was a Lord doing on death row? "And I have come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and me"

'Treason?' Harry thought, looking closely at this Eddard Stark, 'this man does not look like someone who could commit treason' his gut told him. Harry could, even from this distance, see the slight shake of the man's hands, he was afraid. Afraid for what though? For himself? For his family? Harry started to get agitated, he needed more information, what if this was Sirius all over again? But instead of being sent to prison he was being sentenced to death? He had to do something, but to do so would mean using magic. Somehow he thought people wouldn't react well to that.

"I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend, Robert," Eddard shouted. "I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to despose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the on true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Harry tried to process all of this in his frazzled brain. So this Eddard was a friend to the former king, Robert was it? And this king had died, whereupon Eddard had schemed to have…Geoffrey? Joffrey? Joffrey, murdered in order for him to claim the crown. Then something about the Seven, the High Septon and Baelor. They sounded like holy names, names which wouldn't look out of place on a church tapestry. Whilst Harry's headache from earlier was starting to grow, the crowd had become downright animalistic. Some called for Eddard's immediate execution, whilst some wanted a slow death. There were bricks, stones and…other…things thrown Eddard's way, some of which hit him. All this decided it for Harry, how could he take the lead from any of these 'people', Harry wouldn't wish a slow death on even his worst enemy. Ok, maybe his worst enemy, but still, the point remained. And throwing things at an unarmed man; that was just cruel. Maybe he had some more perspective on these events than the people around him, maybe he didn't have enough, but he was convinced that this Eddard Stark was lying.

An extraordinarily fat man knelt in front of the king and, what Harry assumed was the King's mother, said loudly; "As we sin, so do we suffer, this man has confessed his crime in the sights of gods and men, here in this holy place. The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, your Grace?"

The king stood slowly, smirking cruelly in the direction of Eddard Stark who now had his head down, yet his eyes were still searching. Harry was about to turn back to Joffrey when he saw Eddard's eyes widen and lock onto someone in the crowd. Harry followed his line of sight and found a small boy, or maybe it was a girl, sitting on the base of a big statue in the middle of the large crowd. Harry noticed the girl had tears in her eyes. It took him a second to make the connection, just as Joffrey began speaking.

"My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father" he said loudly, turning to look at a very pretty girl maybe a year younger than Joffrey. She smiled slightly at him, and he smiled back. Yet there was still a cruel glint in his eye. Harry frowned, like hell was this little rat going to let Lord Eddard live.

And he was right.

"But they have the soft hearts of women," he said, his smirk growing to dangerous levels "so long as I am your King, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

Harry's eyes widened at these words. What could he do? They were do far away for him to summon the sword which the large man, Ser Ilyn had just pulled from its scabbard. He darted forward and pushed and shoved his way through the crowd. He had to save the man, crazy though it was. He saw the sword raise, he wasn't going to make it. It that one split second Harry's eyes locked with Eddard's. The Lord, with his last action on this earth, jerked his head towards the girl on the statue. Harry then had to watch in horror as the sword was brought down and in one swipe, Eddard's head was severed from his shoulders.

Harry could do nothing but stare. The body still twitched slightly, remaining electrical pulses still travelling to organs. Finally, when Harry regained movement of his arms and legs, he looked back at the statue, only to find the girl, Eddard's daughter, missing. Harry ran. He couldn't save Lord Stark, but he could damn well protect his daughter. He could hear the screams of the other daughter from the top of the steps, but focused on finding the one who wasn't one of the King's favourites. Looking around frantically, he spotted the girl being dragged away by a man dressed all in black. He followed them, sprinting as they entered a dark alleyway.

As he turned the corner he was just in time to see the man in black hold a knife up to the girl's throat. Not thinking, not even considering the fact that he was a wizard, he ran straight at the man and jumped. Whilst in mid-air he delivered a ferocious kick to the man's side, sending him sprawling. Not even stopping to consider what he had just done, he grabbed the girl and slung her over his shoulders. She was light enough, and didn't appear to put up much of a fight. Harry thanked whatever god was out there for this, they had to get out of the city before they locked it down. The missing daughter of the treasonous ex-Hand would certainly be of interest to the crown, whom Harry disliked greatly. It took him several minutes of running before he realised he didn't know where he was going. He had been acting purely on instinct, adrenaline coursing through his vain. That same adrenaline was still there, as strong as ever.

He took out his wand, how could he apparate? He didn't even have the slightest knowledge of how to accomplish such a feat. Turning quickly at the sounds of guards marching down the street, he found himself compressed into what seemed like a very thin tube. It was suffocating, squeezing him until it hurt. He felt like he was dying, but just as soon as the pain had come it was gone again and he found him and the girl standing on top of a hill with nothing to see for miles around.

He groaned, and carefully laid the girl, who was passed out by now, down on the grass.

If he ever got back, he and Binns would be having words.

A/N: Quick poll, which character out of this lot would you want Harry paired up with? Review with your answer, also tell me what you thought about this chapter

- Daenerys Targaryen

- Sansa Stark

- Margaery Tyrell

- Arianne Martell

- Other (tell me who)


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Hey guys, thank you for all your great reviews, I was so happy with all the positive reviews that I just had to get the next chapter out ASAP. I may not be able to get any more chapters out until next Thursday, what with work and college and the like. Enjoy anyway!

Chapter 2

It took another couple of hours sitting there for the girl to wake up. Harry had decided it best not to move her, it didn't look like she had been injured in their journey here, but he wanted to make sure of it when she woke up. In the meantime he had taken to using the Point Me spell to try and figure out where he was. Any familiar places he had tried had just caused his wand to spin around. When he tried Joffrey however it pointed to the, well, Harry assumed it was towards the south as it was definitely colder here than it was in the city they had just been in. Noticeably colder in fact. Grey clouds were overhead and a slight wind was beginning to pick up. They would have to find shelter for the night, and yet there did not seem to be any houses in sight. To his right was hills and trees, though he thought he could just about see the gleam that one would accompany with a lake. This was the only interesting thing to see, in front, behind and to the left of him was hills, hills and more hills.

Harry was stirred from his musings by the groaning of the girl beside him. Harry looked warily at her. How would he handle this? What would he tell her? She didn't know him, Harry couldn't expect her to trust him just like that, especially when she'd just seen her father killed. What if she ran off? No. He couldn't let her do that, he hadn't saved her just to let her go running off into the wilderness. She may not like it but they were kind of stuck together now. Harry wondered if he would be able to apparate again, he was sure that was what he had done. Though it had been done with a considerable amount of adrenaline in his system so who knew how it would turn out this time.

"Uggghh" the girl moaned. She tried to sit up by Harry put a hand on her shoulder. This, however seemed not to be the best choice of action because she jumped and went to draw her sword, which Harry had noticed but decided to ignore in the hopes she would trust him more.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded as she struggled to remove the sword from her belt. "Where am I? Where did you take me?" she said, pointing a sword as thin as a pencil at him.

Harry put his hands up "Peace," he said "I am not going to harm you, especially so soon after saving you" he continued.

The girl was not convinced.

"What is your name?" she asked cautiously, the sword still pointed at him.

Harry considered giving a fake name, but decided against it. No one could possibly know him here, in this new world.

"Harry" he replied, "Harry Potter"

The girl frowned "I haven't heard of House Potter before, you're lying" she said, moving forward. Harry had to resist the urge to sigh.

"You haven't heard of it because I am the only one left" he said, it wasn't as sad to him as it perhaps should have been. He'd long since gotten over the death of his parents, Christ, he didn't even know that they were wizards until he was 11. "Besides, I could just be a commoner, what makes you think I'm part of a big house?"

The girl looked him up and down "Your clothes are too well made for you to be a commoner, and you speak too fancy" she said bluntly. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Fancy? Hmm, I'd never noticed," he replied "and might I assume you to be a Stark? At least I hope you are or my rescuing of you would have been a mistake"

The girl nodded warily before drawing herself up to her full height "I am Arya of House Stark, my father is Lord Eddard…" she trailed off, looking down. Harry almost winced, almost.

"I am sorry about your father, I tried to help him, but there were too many people and I was too far away" he said uncomfortably, the girl, Arya, looked at him with a frown.

"How would you have saved him? No offense, but you don't exactly look like you could take on the whole of the Kingsguard and all…all the commoners" she said. Harry grinned.

"I think I'd have had a good chance," he said slyly, though his tone sobered slightly "when I couldn't save your father I vowed to save his daughter. Though when I looked back you had gone, do you know who that man was?"

Arya nodded slightly "He visited my father a few days past, his name was Yoren. He was a man of the Nights Watch." Harry tilted his head.

"And what is the Nights Watch?" he asked. Arya looked at him disbelievingly.

"How could you not have heard of the Nights Watch? I thought it was common knowledge." She became tense again and this time Harry did sigh. He'd have to tell her something, besides, if she ever told anyone then they were unlikely to believe her.

"What if I told you I wasn't from around here?" he said slowly. "What if I told you I wasn't even from this world?"

Arya stared.

Then stared some more.

It was rather disconcerting.

"I'd tell you that you were insane" she said. Harry chuckled at that.

"Maybe I am" he said softly. Drawing his wand he pointed it at a sword on the ground next to him.

Wait.

A sword. Was it THE sword?

Harry stared. It was THE sword, the one that had sent him to this place, the one which Binns had told him to catch and he had done so without much thought. It was as he remembered. Huge. It was wider than his arm and about as tall as his chest. He wondered if he would actually be able to lift it. He processed this new development before remembering the little girl with the sharp sword stood behind him. Breathing out slightly, he pointed his wand once again.

"Wingardium Leviosa" he said, swishing and flicking his wand at the sword. Slowly it rose off the ground until it was level with his chest. Harry heard a gasp behind him and grinned. Grasping the sword by the hilt he felt warmth flow through his body.

He waited.

Nothing happened. He sighed.

Turning around slowly until he faced Arya, he braced himself for the expression on her face. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide. The sword in her hand had fallen slightly in her shock. Harry smiled slightly, he was pretty sure that was his reaction. Arya pointed at the sword, then at him, then back at the sword. Her mouth was opening and closing like a fish.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked cautiously. Arya shook her head slightly.

"First of all, how did you do that? Are some some kind of wizard or something?" she asked. Harry inclined his head slightly. Arya's eyes widened again before she regained her composure.

"And what exactly are you doing with my father's sword?" she demanded, slightly angry now. It was Harry's turn to be surprised now. Looking at the sword he realised that it was the one which had taken the life of this little girl's father.

"I…" Harry said stupidly "don't know"

"Well give it back!" she demanded, holding out her hand for the hilt. Harry looked at her incredulously.

"And what are you going to do with it?" he asked. Arya frowned at him.

"I'm going to take it back to my brother" she said.

"Brother?" Harry asked.

"Yes stupid," she said harshly which made Harry frown, "my brother. Robb Stark? He's at Winterfell."

"Winterfell?" he asked again. He felt incredibly dumb, though he had no reason to. This world was completely new to him, he knew nothing of its history, its geography, its people. Nothing. Arya didn't seem to understand this as she threw her hands up in the air with an agitated groan.

"Doesn't even know what Winterfell is" she muttered. Harry frowned again, he seemed to be doing that a lot today.

"Hey, I am new here, I don't know anything about this…" he paused "what's the name of this place again?"

"Arrrghhh" she shouted before sighing. "Am I going to have to be your history teacher?"

"Yes." Harry said plainly. "Though we have to find shelter first, it is getting dark"

It was. What little light the sun was giving off from behind the clouds was slowly fading. They would have to find somewhere safe or they would be prey to the wilderness. Harry looked back over to where he had seen the lake. It was probably the only option. Harry stopped, looking over to the young girl who was now staring at him.

"We're going to have to disguise you" Harry muttered, more to himself than Arya. The girl herself frowned slightly. Obviously there was still some trust issues. How could he disguise her? There were spells which could alter someone's appearance, yet Harry had yet to be taught the majority of them. He could cut off her hair, make her look more like a boy, but that seemed a bit drastic, especially with magic on his side. A colour change on her hair? Maybe try and change the colour of her eyes? But what if he messed up? She'd never trust him then. He decided to give her the choice.

"We can either cut your hair off so that you look like a boy, or I can try and change a few things so that you look less like a Stark, what'll it be?" he asked. She thought about it for a moment. Harry was kind of hoping she would choose the first option, he didn't trust himself with magic at the moment.

"Cut it off" she said simply. Harry nodded once.

"Fine, I'll require your sword then" he said.

"Needle" Arya replied. Harry looked confused. "Its name is Needle" she said quietly whilst handing over the sword. Harry lifted an eyebrow with a slight smile.

"Needle it is" he said and proceeded to cut her hair short. It was slightly scruffy but Harry didn't think it looked that bad, he'd tried to make it even.

Standing back he admired his work.

"Well?" Arya said expectantly. Harry smiled and said in mock surprise "Sorry sir, I didn't see you there, how can I help you?"

Arya scowled at him. Right. Not the time for jokes.

"Ok then, I say we make for that lake over there, maybe find some water or kill an animal to eat" he said. Arya nodded and the set off quickly. The sun continued its descent.

"So do you have any more brothers and sisters?" Harry asked lamely when the silence had become uncomfortable. Arya gave him a sideways glance.

"4 brothers and 1 sister" she said quietly. "Well, 3 brothers, 1 sister and a bastard half-brother" she added. Harry's eyebrows rose.

"Bastard? Sounds like a very crude name to call your brother, he can't be that bad" he said calmly. Arya looked surprised.

"No! No no no not like that, his mother is different to my mother, and my father and his mother weren't married when he was born. That's why he's a bastard" she said quickly. Harry understood.

"And do you like your bastard half-brother?" he asked casually. Arya smiled.

"I love him, we look alike you see, only ones to look like my father. All the rest look like my mother, red hair and all" she said fondly.

"And what are him and the rest of your siblings called?" he asked. He had barely restrained himself from asking how her bastard brother was treated, though he had a fairly good idea.

"He's called Jon, Jon Snow. That is the surname given to all bastards in the North, to show people that they are one. Only in the North though, in Vale they are called Stone and in Dorne they take the name Sand" she said, it seemed she was getting more comfortable talking about things she knew which Harry was grateful for.

"My eldest brother is called Robb, as you know, and he will…has inherited Winterfell" she trailed of sadly. Harry almost sighed.

"And the others?" he prompted.

"My sister is called Sansa, she was the red-haired one you must have seen up by the Royal scum" she said viciously. Harry had seen her, the pretty one with long auburn hair, who had smiled when Joffrey had declared how she and the Queen had bid him be merciful to her father. Harry also heard her screams in his head, at least he thought they were hers, as they severed her father's head from his body.

"Shh," Harry said, there was no one around but it was pointless taking chances "I have a feeling it would be wise to keep such thoughts to yourself, anyone could hear you" Arya scowled but nodded, and continued.

"My other brothers are called Bran and Rickon, Bran is 7 and Rickon is 4. Bran..." she said but stopped. Harry looked at her.

"Bran…what?" he asked cautiously. Arya sighed shakily.

"Bran fell, he was climbing one of the towers in Winterfell and he fell. He's a cripple now" she said sadly. Harry was aghast. 7 years old and crippled for life? It wasn't fair.

"Why was he climbing in the first place?" he asked. Arya smiled at this.

"Bran loved to climb, he was amazing it at. He never fell or slipped until that day, it was when the King and his people came to Winterfell. The day it all went wrong."

Never fell, or slipped, ever. The words resonated in Harry's head. But then he got some perspective. It was very likely he was pushed, and pushed by someone in the Royal party, but Eddard Stark was dead now and the Starks were probably enemies of the crown by now. It wouldn't matter to anyone of importance, and if they were to come out and say it people would see it as going against the crown. He found no use in telling Arya any of this, it would only make her more vengeful than she already was.

"What about your mother?" Harry asked, steering conversation away from Bran.

"She's called Catelyn. Catelyn Tully. She looks like an older Sansa I would say, still beautiful but quite strict. She married my father after her first betrothed was killed by the Mad King" she said. Mad King? Harry wondered exactly how messed up this world was.

Conversation continued in this vain, Arya told him about Winterfell, her childhood, Robert's Rebellion, Greyjoy's rebellion, the fostering of Theon Greyjoy at Winterfell, her experiences in King's Landing (which he found out was the name of the city he had landed in) and many other bits and pieces to do with the history of Westeros. Harry felt a bit strange being educated by a 9 year old, but she seemed to at least know the basics of what she was talking about.

They came across what Arya told him was the kingsroad at one point. There had been guards patrolling it and Harry and Arya had barely avoided being seen before one group of them had strolled down the road. From them Harry was able to gather that Robb Stark arrived at Riverrun (which he was told was the Tully seat) and captured one Jaime Lannister after a battle in what they called the 'Whispering Wood'. Arya could hardly contain her happiness at this piece of information and may have given away their position with the little squeak she made. Luckily Harry had learned only days previously how to perform a Silencing Charm from Professor Flitwick, so no one noticed. He had tried to learn it for the Triwizard tournament the year before but was only able to muffle the sound rather than silence it completely.

Eventually, after hours of walking, they reached the lake. From what he could guess in the near darkness it was big. Bigger than Harry had guessed when he had first seen in hours ago. There was an island in the middle of it filled to the brim with great twisted trees with red leaves which indicated autumn. That was one thing Harry hadn't asked Arya, what the seasons were like here. He'd do that later. The trees were too far for Harry to make out any details but they looked imposing. Harry hadn't seen the like of them at any point on their journey, they unnerved him slightly.

"I know where we are" Arya said in wonder "we passed this place on the way to King's Landing"

"Where are we then?" Harry asked.

"That right there," she said pointing at the island "is the Isle of Faces. It's the last place in the south where weirwoods have not been cut down and burned."

Harry scratched his head "So they're called weirwoods? Huh. Are they significant?" he asked her.

Arya nodded her head "Each weirwood has a face carved into it, the people of the North pray to the Old Gods by it. When the Andals came over here they burnt most of them down, but not here."

Harry didn't question how she knew so much, she was high-born, they must be taught it at a young age. And yet Harry hadn't had Arya pegged as someone who liked history. Looking around, Harry saw no boat with which to get to the island, not that he had expected or wanted to. Scratching his head he tried to think what to do next. He looked around the edge of the lake, but there was nothing to see in the near darkness. He sighed.

"I'm afraid we'll have to sleep here for the night," he said, Arya gave no complaint and sat down with a thump. Harry was thankful for her lack of opposition, she didn't make a fuss. Ron would have grumbled and mumbled about having to sleep on the ground. He shook his head. It would do no good to think about friends who were potentially worlds away. Just bring unnecessary discomfort.

He thought about starting a fire, but that would just draw unnecessary attention. He simply cast a warming charm on each of them.

"I've been meaning to ask," Arya said as she stared up at the stars as the appeared "where are _you _from?"

"Me?" Harry asked. Arya nodded.

"We've talked plenty about here, but I want to know about your world" she said excitedly. Harry thought for a moment.

"It's quite a lot different from here" he began "for one thing we're more advanced than you are. And by more advanced I mean we have more machines which do things for us, that doesn't make us any better, just lazier. Me specifically, well I belong to a world of wizards."

Arya's eyes widened "There are more people like you?" she asked. Harry nodded carefully.

"In my world yes, though they are outnumbered hugely by normal humans. This means we keep what we do to ourselves, I'm breaking laws even by telling you this" he said with a slight chuckle. "I go to a school for witches and wizards"

"School?" Arya asked confusedly. Harry blinked.

"Um, like your lessons, only with other children from different families" he said. Arya looked thoughtful at this.

"Lessons would have been a lot more fun with other people there" she said. Harry nodded.

"It's not too bad, though my specific school has a tendency to put its students, well, me, in life threatening situations every year" he replied. "Besides, I thought you liked learning, you seem to know a lot about history"

"Only from the stories Old Nan tells us, then again she also told us stories of the Others, ice monsters living in the frozen North. That's the place beyond the Wall, only wildlings and other nasty things live there I heard. I don't know whether she is the best source of information" she said. Harry frowned. Ice monsters? That didn't sound good, yet Arya had heard of them from Old Nan who he gathered was slightly sensationalist. "What are your friends like?" Arya asked.

"My friends," Harry said, praying his voice didn't break at all "I have a few friends. Ron, who has been my best friend since I was 11, he's an idiot sometimes but generally he great. Hermione is my other best friend, she's stuck with me through everything, best friend anyone could wish for. Ginny, Ron's sister who had a crush on me since we met, she seems to have gotten over that this year though which is good. Neville, bit shy but a really nice person. Luna, who is…well…eccentric. A bit loony but also very perceptive which is good most of the time but can also be irritating when you're trying to hide something. All in all I'd say I'm quite lucky to have friends like that" he finished. Arya looked at him.

"I wish I had friends like that" she said quietly. Harry frowned.

"Don't you?" he asked cautiously.

"No, there aren't an abundance of children in Winterfell. And those that are there would never look twice at Arya Horseface" she said bitterly.

"Well, you have a friend now" Harry said with a small smile. Arya beamed at him. Harry coughed slightly.

"You sleep, I'll keep watch" he said. Sleep would not be coming tonight, he had too much on his mind for that.

"Okay," Arya said tiredly "oh and thank you"

"For what?"

"Saving me, and being my friend"

"Oh. You're welcome."

Harry allowed a slight smile to come onto his face, there was worse company.


End file.
